for us in all states and conditions of life. Our asking for it, however, may be sadly deficient. That's the reason we miscarry so often. Gottes Brünnlein hat Wassers die Fülle. A little son asked his faithful mother, during one of our late earthquakes, whether she was not alarmed. "No, my child," was her confident answer, "I rejoice in a God who can shake the world." She had some sense of God's all-sufficiency, we think. So too had that little fellow, whose widowed mother wondered what they must do after the last measure of flour should be spent. "Oh! mam, don't you think God will hear when we scrape the bottom of the barrel?" During one of the fearful German wars, a poor woman cheered her frightened boy, at eventide, in hearing of booming cannons, by telling him that God could surround them as by a wall. "How, mother, how?" "Don't ask me, Johan! Did I know how, I might do it myself." They prayed and slept undisturbed. Sure enough, by morning snow-banks had environed the little hut higher than its roof and gables. It verily appears that no cloud can overshadow the Christian, but the eye that is in him will discern a rainbow. "My Grace is sufficient for thee," is a Gospel that seems to be echoing within and around our hearts, ever since Jesus proclaimed it to Paul as an antidote to his thorn in the flesh, and through him to us. God does wonders in the seas by the tiny little corals; but what does He perfect by means of elephants? He seems to let them shamble around, before our eyes, just to show man how vain a thing mere size and bulk is. His strength is made perfect in the weak things of earth-never by massive instruments. He accomplishes His wonders in a nation by means of orphan boys-not by such as are born big from the outstart. And in His favorite kingdom His law has always been: My strength is made perfect in weakness. Mary was an unknown Jewish maiden, and the Apostles were fishermen. So, too, will saints continue to be built out of the little ones of the earth. The greatest truths are the simplest, and so are God's greatest men. It is not possible for man to become great until he sees that he, and all that is, is small, and God alone is great.

Earth's highest station ends in "Here he lies,"

And "dust to dust," concludes her noblest song.- Young.

Webster was quite right, in declaring: "Heaven's gates are not so highly arched as princes' palaces; they that enter there must go upon their knees." But why listen to this one and then to another? Have we not a still surer commentator? Had He not spoken before what he reiterated to Paul: "Whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted?"

THE FIRST COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE.

BY THE EDITOR.

"The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it."(Proverbs XXX. 17.)

"Children, obey your parents in the Lord; for this is right. Honor thy father and mother, which is the first commandment with promise, that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth."-(Ephesians v. 1-3.)

On the lower eastern slope of the Valley of Jehosaphat are several monuments or tombs. One purports to be the tomb of Absalom, the fair, favored, frail son of David. Around it lies a heap of loose stones. The heap grows larger every year. As the Turks pass the tomb they pelt it with stones, to show their abhorrence of the son who disobeyed and rebelled against his father. In this way these stones have been, and still are, brought hither.

During the seven-years-war, the son of a poor farmer, named Kurzhagen, served as a common soldier in the German army. In the small village of Parchim he was born, and there his parents lived and died. The son was a faithful, affectionate child; a brave soldier, and a true Christian. In due time he was promoted for his valor, honored with the order of Knighthood, and made General of a division. At the height of his prosperity, he returned with his army from the war-returned with much glory. As he approached his native village, his humble, godly parents, clad in plain, home-spun farmers' clothing, awaited him in the market place. As the son saw his dear old parents among the village throng, he leaped from his gay war-horse, embraced and kissed them in the presence of his soldiers and officers. From that day they had to live with him, and eat with him at his table. On a certain occasion, one of his officers sneeringly remarked that it was improper for common farmers to eat at the same table with Knights. To which Kurzhagen bravely replied:

"How can I help but gratefully honor the first benefactors of my life? Before I became a Knight I was a child."

This incident came to the ears of General Von Ziethen, the highest officer of the army. Soon thereafter Kurzhagen gave a dinner to all the officers of the garrison. The plain old parents

asked their son to permit their absence at the table, as they would feel embarrassed among so many great folks. At the table Von Ziethen asked the son:

"Where are your worthy parents? Let them at once come to the table; by no means let my presence keep them away."

Nay, more; Von Ziethen himself went to their room and brought them to the feast; heartily grasped the old people's hands, and set one to his right hand and one to his left, at the table. Then, taking a glass of wine in hand, the great chief arose and said:

"Meine Herren, auf das Wohl dieser würdigen Alten, der braven Eltern eines braven und verdienstvollen Sohnes, der es beweis't dass ein dankbarer Sohn mehr werth ist, als ein hochmüthiger Rittmeister."

(My friends, to the health (well-being) of these worthy old people, the brave parents of a brave and meritorious son, who shows that a grateful son is worth more than a haughty Knight.)

Once Kurzhagen was invited to dine with Frederick the Great. The King asked his guest from what house (noble family) he was descended. "From none, may it please your Majesty," he replied. "My parents are merely plain country people, and I would not exchange them for any other parents in the world."

"That is nobly spoken," the great King said. "Woe to him who is little enough to be ashamed of his parents and relatives; he is not a noble man, and can never be one.'

Now and then I hear of young people who have acquired the disgraceful notoriety of being unkind to their parents, and to their face rudely refuse to obey them. I have often wondered how everybody comes to know all about their bad behavior so soon. And equally surprising it is how unanimously all good-thinking people predict the future misery of such. And no less astonishing is it to learn how their predictions are fulfilled. Loss of character, loss of the credit, confidence, and respect of others always come upon the son or daughter who sins against parents. And usually such ill-mannered young people are the most tempted to filial unkindness at an age when their habits ought to improve, and their riper judgment ought to teach them better. If there is any of this leaven of wickedness in a young person, it is most likely to show itself at the period when the boy is about passing over into a young man, and the girl into a young lady. This period of transition is one of the most critical in life. Then the youth passes the threshold of a new world. New associates cluster around one; and pleasures equally new are offered. Pleasures with poisonous ingredients are pressed upon us by false friends. The tempter comes in the disguise of innocence. Social sins are varnished with the semblance of innocent amusements. The young man, recently a boy, is seen among

the group loitering around the tobacco shop, and the rum hole. The young lady, lately a girl, giddily saunters along the street, late at night, with her silly companions. Bad men exchange glances and smiles with her, and see that she is pleased with the exchange. The parents entreat, rebuke, exhort. Alas! to no effect.

Yes; once they could command, and enforce their rules with the rod. Now, no longer. The boy has grown into a young man; the girl into a young lady. He is as tall and strong as father; she is, physically, a match for mother. Surely for the back of the young gentleman or lady, though a fool, the rod cannot be intended; or, if intended, cannot be used. With a sneer, the advice of kind parents is spurned. How many a parent's heart bleeds at the sight of such disobedience.

Just here the young make a new start in life. They step over into a new sphere of experience. To fit them for it, the church provides for their instruction in the Scriptures and their confirmation, just before they pass the boundary. They renew their baptismal vows. They enlist as active soldiers in the army of Christ. Yet, right on the threshold, they are misled by the siren voice of sin. Nor parent nor pastor will they heed. The fifth commandment, to them, is a dead letter. Other counselors they prefer. Them they will follow. What all this must lead to the wisest of men clearly teaches:

"Rejoice, O young man in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment."(Eccl. XI. 9.)

The biography of many a good person clearly shows how God's blessings follow those who are kind and obedient to their parents. The promise in the commandment is a true one.

Some thirty years ago a certain young man was a student in Jefferson College, Western Pennsylvania. He enjoyed his studies, and strove to prepare himself for usefulness in life. Meanwhile his father was unfortunate. He became embarrassed in business. How should he keep his home and raise his family of small children ? His son at college had the prospect of acquiring a thorough education, which he prized very highly; yet his love for his parents enabled him to sacrifice this. He left college, returned home, taught school, and made himself otherwise useful, that he might assist his father to pay his debts, keep his home, and raise his children. Although without a college diploma, in the course of time he became Governor of Pennsylvania. Six months ago he died. When this incident of his life was published, a certain Christian gentleman, who had never voted for him, remarked to

me: "I have much more respect for Governor Geary than I ever had before. A man who treats his parents as he did I must respect and admire." This friend may have seen things in the Governor's political career which he had to condemn, but the self-denying kindness to his father was the great redeeming feature of his character and life, which, in the eyes of thinking people, covered a multitude of political differences, and even infirmities.

Forty years ago, a certain young man graduated in the Theological Seminary of the Reformed Church, then at York, Pa. He became pastor of a large and influential Reformed congregation. Meanwhile his father died, leaving a widow and a large family of children. The young pastor left his pleasant field of labor, where he was well supported, that he, as the oldest brother, might take a father's place aside of his widowed mother. For six years he devoted himself to teaching, and assisted his mother to support her family and educate her children. But for his faithfulness to his mother, it is doubtful whether his three brothers could have graduated in College and the Seminary, and become useful ministers of the Gospel.

A few months ago I visited a certain family, in humble life, yet in comfortable circumstances. I inquired about the son. "He is still a very kind boy to us," the mother said. "There is hardly a day but what he comes to see us, and always tries to do and say something to please us."

This boy now fills a prominent position, enjoys the confidence of the community, gets a salary of between $3,000 and $4,000, without being spoiled by it, or becoming too proud to love his parents. Although often pressed with work, he finds time to walk half a dozen squares every day, and spend half an hour with his parents. Does not this all prove how true is the first commandment with promise, (Exodus, xx. 12)?

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.-"I am on the bright side of seventy," said an aged man of God; "the bright side, because nearer to everlasting glory." "Nature fails," said another, "but I am hapPy." "My work is done," said the Countess of Huntingdon, when eighty-four years old; "I have nothing to do but go to my Father." To an humble Christian it was remarked, "I fear you are near another world." "Fear it, sir!" he replied, "I know I am: but, blessed be the Lord, I do not fear it, I hope it."